


Human

by RealisticFantasy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, Apocalypse, Archangels, Demons, F/F, F/M, Heaven vs Hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8678797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealisticFantasy/pseuds/RealisticFantasy
Summary: With Dean fresh from Hell, he and Sam are hellbent on facing the monster that pulled Dean from the pit. When their crusade for the truth crosses paths with that of an ambitious stranger, they unwittingly sign on for far more trouble than they expected. This stranger is far more than meets the eye and may prove to play a crucial role in the war at hand, whether Sam and Dean like it or not.





	1. Prologue: Earth Angel

There is not a creature in existence that is without flaw. Even the Creator of all creatures is riddled with flaws. If He wasn’t, those that were  _made in his image_  would also know perfection. However, as a very intelligent man once said, “To err is human.” The statement, while not wrong, is obviously not all-inclusive. But, how was an egocentric race meant to know anything outside of itself? C'est la vie.

Angels are subject to this rule, despite having been perceived to be immaculate – a fabrication of the human mind, surely, for angels were not meant to be faultless guardians. Angels were meant to be soldiers. Rather, they were meant to be the ideal soldier – unquestioning, without desire, well-mannered.  And, with each that was created, a step was taken towards that ideal. The first five, however, were more human than what is known to be an Angel today.

These five were known as the Archangels: Azrael, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel. These were meant to be God’s most fearsome soldiers, the model for all other Angels. However, they proved to be more unstable than intended - Azrael especially so. With free reign of the full spectrum of emotion, she was prone to defiance, to curiosity, to fear, to concern. Yet, despite his flawed creations, He realized He, too, was flawed and could not bring himself to destruction.

These five were meant to keep each other in balance: Azrael handled matters of empathy and patience, Michael justice and charity, Lucifer courage and chastity, Raphael prudence and impartiality, and Gabriel diligence and joy. But, the combination of innate desire and immense power unsurprisingly quickly proved to be problematic.

Each Archangel had their limitations and the emotional spectrum of further Angels was soon chiseled down to nothing as God perfected his formulation. Unfortunately, the very first of his creations continued to always be an excusable hitch in His plans, a deviant from the crowd, an outcast. The laws for unwavering obedience were set in place and she consistently broke them. Thus, it was only fitting to cast her from heaven.

While the others saw this as the greatest punishment, she perceived it otherwise. The Earth was created shortly after and filled with creations that were far more like her than her brothers ever were. It was clear, even to her, that her place was not in Heaven and, though her father never breathed a word of it, she began to think of the Earth as a gift rather than punishment– a realm for her to watch over and be the protector of, as Lucifer came to be the ruler of Hell.

Before He cast her, she was given a final gift: a body of her own to enjoy all the pleasures that came with being one of God’s favorite flawed creatures. There were stipulations, however, and she became susceptible to several human needs - hunger, thirst, sleep. Without these, her power would diminish and soon her vessel would begin to deteriorate. Luckily, these needs were easy enough to appease and Earth soon became her home. The sense of alienation was soon ebbed away by the presence of the new creations. Still, her purpose was unclear, a delicate realm of existence for an angel. Thus, she kept to herself, a passive player in the lives of humans. 

Still, those that asked from her, often received. She would provide for the creatures that she saw as incapable and innocent. And, in the beginning, they called her god. They called her miracle. They called her law. The years passed slowly and without too much cause for concern. Rarely, when a problem arose, she would swiftly take care of it. The humans revered her and worshiped her, but she found the limelight dissatisfying, selfish, and blasphemous. When the pagan gods rose to the occasion, she hardly fought to keep the attention she once had.

Then, they called her human and they called her woman. She was no longer a deviant among the masses. Her desires and her concerns were commonplace as was her appearance. The use of her abilities was unnecessary for there were many creatures that struggled for power and attention so that no one creature could garner it all. So she would watch, passive  and pensive as the world spun and spun without her interaction. 

Finally, they began to call her legend. They called her story. They called her rumor. Her existence was questioned. Her powers were the punchline to a joke. A belief that was once thought to be pious was now childish and the humans grew “out” of it, instead of being raised into it. Her purpose was again called into question and she began to wonder if this was the better fate.

And, soon, the Earth was so full of people that it swallowed her whole and they called her nothing at all. Her name was scrawled in books that were called ancient with curling, yellowing pages but the humans assured each other that it meant nothing. The times that her name crossed another’s lips were few and far between. And, the Archangel knew then how one could feel lonely while never being alone.

 


	2. There's No Such Thing

The smell of cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke hangs heavily in the air of Jo-Jo’s Bar, despite the fact that smoking hadn’t been permitted within in the bar for the past handful of decades. The stifling scent was likely embedded in the peeling wallpaper after years of service. Since the usual patrons had grown accustomed to it and the tourists didn’t stick around, there was no motivation to fix it.  

The place was rundown and quaint, just on the outskirts of town with a neon sign that had just enough working letters to get its point across. It was the kind of place that you could saunter into and grab a drink with no questions asked and none of that superficial small talk that bartenders typically tried to engage customers in. Put simply, it was a hunter hotspot.

Back on earth and in his impala, Dean was set on covering the lost ground of the past few months in hell. Sam, however, was not quite as enthusiastic as his brother. Nevertheless, Dean was in the driver’s seat and house rules gave him the authority to make an executive decision, a decision that landed them in the cracked parking lot of the self-dubbed “o-J B r.”

The crowd was fairly regular with the majority more interested in drinking and shacking up than in conversation. As such, the congestion collected around the bar, leaving the dimly lit billiards table unoccupied, save for a slim brunette. She was idly practicing pool while talking on the phone, her eyes flitting to the door at every sound of the bell.

 “A demon?  _Really_ , Penelope?” Her tone is drenched in doubt as she speaks into the cell phone pinned between her right ear and shoulder, letting the pool cue slide easily between her fingers sending the white ball speeding forward before it collided with a red ball and emitted a satisfying  _click_.

“It’s not that I believe it’s  _nothing_ , sweetheart,” She sighs, straightening her back as her eyes grazed lazily on the balls on the green felt. She had been practicing for an hour or so, waiting for the right person to come waltzing through the door. Normally, she would have been more discreet with her conversations – even with familiar company – but the Saturday night chatter easily drowned her out.

“I just don’t think it’s a  _demon_. Sounds more like a poltergeist. Listen, Penelope. I’ve dealt with demons, nasty business. It’s not that a poltergeist  _isn’t_. It’s just that…” She pauses, turning away from the table and dropping one end of her cue to the ground as she rolled in her hand. As Penelope drones out about her concerns, her free hand snakes its way to her pinned cellphone, sliding it from its secure location and shifting it to the other side of her head.

“Right. Mhm. Okay. Well,” The woman drags out the word to a short tune, her gaze disinterestedly bouncing from one person at the bar to the next. She continues, “I’m just warning you. If I show up to deal with a  _demon_  and it ends up being a  _poltergeist_ , it’s bad news bears, Penelope. I can deal with it – _whatever_ it is – but, if I show up with the wrong stuff, as you know, it costs you double... Right. Okay. Well, as long as you remember that.”

The sound of the door of the bar opening momentarily catches the woman’s attention. A smile slowly creeps across her face as she studies the two gentlemen that had entered. She could practically feel the cockiness rolling off in waves, crashing against the sexed-up atmosphere of the bar. The only concern was that mopey might drag her target away before she had the chance to toy with him too much. Still, she was willing to do anything for a little entertainment at this point in the night.

“Alright. Sounds like a plan. I’ll be there quick as I can. Give me a day or two? Alright. Yes, alright. Gotta go. Stay safe,” The brunette quickly hangs up, spinning on her heels to face the pool table once more as the two men approach the bar. She crudely juts her cue towards the white ball, popping it up into the air and sending it flying away from the pool table.

“ _Shit_. Not  _again_ ,” She pouts, hoping that her comment was loud enough for the gentlemen to overhear. She half-heartedly jogs to catch it before it rolls away to some mysterious place. Crouching down to pick it up, she notices the pair of shoes beside her and her gaze is soon running up their respective legs and finds itself locked with the stranger’s green eyes. Dean’s gaze disapprovingly drops to the ball at his feet, ready to let the bastard that sent it his way have it. But, watching brunette curls appear, he has to stop himself from audibly whistling.

 “Sorry,” She remarks sheepishly, rising to her feet to meet his eyes before her gaze darts back to the pool table. Hook, line, and sinker.

Her apology made it to his ears a few seconds too late and those wide, innocent brown eyes made his stomach flip.  _Damn_. It takes him a second to recollect him, turning to Sam and silently expressing his amazement before taking on his typical charismatic approach.

“You having trouble? You know, I could show you a thing or two,” Dean grins, clasping Sam’s shoulder.  _And, not just in pool_ , the thought was all too quick to cross Dean’s mind so he didn’t wait to see Sam’s eyes roll before he pushes Sam lightly towards the bar. “Be a gentleman an’ grab us a couple of drinks, Sammy.”  
  
"Ah... Uh..." Sam was struggling to form a complete thought in his mind, let alone bring his lips to speak it. The entire mood of the night had shifted in an instant and Sam was suddenly on board with the idea of spending a few hours here. Fortunately, Sam brings himself out of his stunned silence to mutter, “Okay.”

The woman’s gaze slides over to the taller gentleman who had yet to move an inch, an easy smile gracing her lips at his stunned babbling. This was going to be easier than she thought. She lets her gaze linger just a fraction of a second too long, drop just a fraction of a degree lower, and her smile to take on just a fraction more of a flirtatious appearance. Everything she did was calculated, perfectly formulated to inspire just a smidge of competition and string the boys along. Quality entertainment.

"You really don't have to get me anything. I'd hate to take your money," She remarks as she bats her eyelashes at the taller gentleman - Sam, was it? - before biting her lip and shyly returning her gaze to his green-eyed counterpart, just in time to catch his gaze. The silent communication to his larger companion very clearly screamed  _Don't fuck this up for me_. Pretty Boy insisted that Sasquatch - she  _was_  fond of nicknames - still get her something to drink, but she didn't bother to listen to what exactly that was. The names of drinks hardly meant anything to her.

Sam complies with little resistance, leaving her and Dean to themselves. He was quick to lead her to the pool table, taking the earliest chance he could to wrap his arms around her and lean against her as he leads her arms into a strong shot that she could have easily taken by herself.

Shortly after, Sam brings the pair their respective drinks and, at her gratitude, allows himself to interrupt their game by striking up a conversation. He could practically feel Dean’s irritation, but, if he had even half a chance with her, he was going to take it.

“Wh-what did you say your name was?” He stumbles over his words a little as his gaze shoots to Dean who was mouthing a variety of obscenities to Sam.

“Uh, I didn’t. But it’s Eva,” She responds with a beaming smile.

“Eva? I’m Sam,” He extends a hand to her and she has to shift the pool cue and beer awkwardly to get a free hand. It was at her awkward chuckle that Sam realizes that a handshake was perhaps not the best way to introduce himself to her.

The conversation didn’t get much farther as Dean was quick to insert himself by giving Sam a _playful_ shove at which Sam was not all too subtle in expressing his displeasure. Nevertheless, Dean regains the upper hand as he and Eva return to their pool lesson, leaving Sam to take a seat at the bar on his own. Sam had grown accustomed to Dean getting the girl, but he couldn’t help but hope. In Dean’s absence, he had taken up some of his other brother’s tendencies and, now that the natural order was restored, he was walking the line of deciding what kind of life he wanted to lead. Nevertheless, this wasn’t the sort of place for heavy thinking.

As Sam find some company in the bartender, Eva plays along with Dean – giggling when he whispers in her ear, missing shots when he lets her try on her own, building a mock confidence in her falsely poor skills. She was certain, however, to take the opportunity to smile and wave to Sam when Pretty Boy wasn’t paying his full attention - which was hardly ever. They carried on like this for a while, teasing and joking and flirting, until she finally decided to get the show on the road.

"I bet ten bucks that I can beat you in a game now," She confidently exclaims, spinning around to face him after pocketing a single ball after a long string of terrible shots on her own.

"No, no, no. I don't... That wouldn't be fair," Dean's insists with a chuckle as he takes a shot, missing by a wide enough margin for her to notice that it was clearly purposeful. She couldn’t help but wonder if this charade _actually_ worked on other women.

"What? Don't you trust in your own teaching?" She asks absentmindedly as pulls out a ten from her wallet and smacks it down onto the pool table, sure to flash her wallet which was, by no means, lacking. The sight must have been rather persuasive as it only took a little more prodding to convince him. Though, she was certain his persistence was only theatrics for the sake of upholding the facade of him being a gentleman. 

The following game was painstakingly slow and tedious as they were both doing the worst that they could absolutely manage. Nevertheless, she won by a narrow margin and expressed great joy in this accomplishment as she snatches up her winnings. Her celebration was cut short as a thought had apparently suddenly crossed her mind as she goes digging through her wallet once more. 

"I bet _three hundred_  bucks that I can beat you again," She remarks, beaming with pride as she smacks a fistful of cash onto the pool table. 

Dean's eyes widen with surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting her to increase her bet by that much. Now, he was walking the line on a delicate choice. He could leave the bar with a girl on his arm or with some much-needed cash or with neither. Scratching the back of his neck, his gaze shoots to Sam sitting at the bar a few feet off. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Sam wasn’t paying too much attention to the pair at this point. Regardless of what Dean chose, he didn't want Same to overhear. The last thing he needed was Sam's criticism, which he was often very liberal with. 

"I dunno. You sure y--" Dean didn't even have the chance to finish his thought before she interrupted with a definitive, "I'm sure."

Eva paces closer to him, tucking at the lapels of his leather jacket as she looks up at him with wide eyes, "Look. It's a win-win for me. I either win some cash. Or we grab some food or...  _something_ else."

If the emphasis on the word wasn't a big enough hint, her embarrassed chuckle and averted gaze were. Dean was occasionally a more critical thinker, but he was on the verge of desperation. It had been a long, long time and this girl...  _Damn_ , this girl. Dean's eyes shoot to Sam once more before he sighs ** _._**

"Fine.  _Fine_ ," He answers with a breathy chuckle at her excitement.

It seemed no sooner had his money hit the table than the game was over. It was gut-wrenchingly short, the true nature of the game abundantly clear after her first flawless shot. And, he had given her too much of a lead to catch up. His displeasure was evident in his features as she counted and pocketed the cash,  _his_  cash. Boy, Sammy was never going to let him hear the end of this one.

"You hustled me," He hisses through his teeth as his pool cue hits the wood trim of the table with a snap and he draws close to the brunette woman. The anger was more directed inward than everything, but Dean wasn’t readily going to admit that. He did the same thing for Christ's sake. To hundreds, if not thousands, of people. He couldn't really be  _that_  angry for being hustled. But, he couldn’t help himself.

"Oh, yeah," Eva responds in a sickeningly sweet voice that bounces up and down in intonation like a song.

"I'm more than just a pretty face. Such a shame you aren't," She remarks with a mock pity, drawing closer and straightening his jacket once again.

She gives him a sympathetic smile and turns to stride away from him, but he catches her wrist. With a mock shock, she turns back to him, her free hand pressed against her chest in teasing disbelief. There were only two ways this could go. He would either let her go or someone would  _make_  him let her go. Regardless, she was going to have some fun with it.

"Now, that's no way to treat a lady," She insists in a whisper with a wide smirk. Stepping in like the knight in shining armor he was, it appeared that Sam had caught wind of the argument between the pair and found Dean’s reaction inappropriate. Dean typically reserved that sort of aggression for things he typically classified as subhuman and Sammy couldn’t imagine that the girl could manage to do anything deserving of a similar response.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam’s voice was sharp and deep, his aggravation with Dean striking a different chord than normal. He steps between his brother and the brunette, separating her from his death grip. Sam had tried to mentally rehearse what he would say to her given the chance, but this situation was far different that he could have imagined. After a moment to catch the breath he hadn’t realized he lost, he settles on a soft, “Are… you okay?”

For a second, the thought crosses his mind that she might be something other than human and that his brother’s reaction was warranted. A siren, maybe? That would explain quite a bit. Still, Sam forces himself to push the thought from his mind, hoping that she was just a normal girl. Certainly, they were both just being a little paranoid.

Eva was startled - if only slightly - by the sudden aggression between the boys. She had a feeling, however, that it wasn't all too uncommon for them and she wasn't the direct cause of it. Still, she knew she was an integral part of the current situation. And, she thus felt obligated to intervene but the attention turned to her before she could formulate a complete thought.

"She-- She took my money!" Dean exclaims angrily, childishly as justification for his actions. Overhearing Dean’s interjection, Sam was frankly relieved. He was terrified that any girl he developed a mild interest in would end up to be some monster. Regardless, Dean was certain she was undeserving of the kindness Sam was giving her. Sammy was a sucker for those sappy doe eyes and Dean convinced himself that, if he didn't intervene, they'd be out of another few hundred. 

"I'm fine. I've dealt with far worse," Eva was in the middle of replying when Dean shoved Sam aside and took his place. While the batted eyelashes and embarrassed smile had been partially genuine in response to Sam’s question, she couldn't help herself from overacting and perpetuating the already boiling anger in Pretty Boy. Every word that came out of the girl's mouth sounded superficial and obsequious now that he had had a run-in with her charm and she knew that he was still fuming. It was all just some innocent fun. Not that Dean had been let in on the joke.

"Give me my  _damn_  money or I swear to God, I'll...” She could practically taste the venom in his voice and she had to bite down on her lip to refrain from laughing in his face. She had stood up quite a bit scarier than a pretty face and some muscles on her own. He was a joke to her, though her opinion might have been swayed if she knew who he was exactly.

“Dean,” Sam hisses to his brother as a reminder that they weren’t dealing with some supernatural creature. It wasn’t helping Sam’s case that the girl seemed to want to perpetuate the argument.

"You'll what?" She questions, testing the waters shamelessly to see how far she could take her little game. She leans in close as well, practically chest to chest with Deans. If he wasn't so angry, he might've had a perfect opportunity to make a move. But, he was taking all this to heart. Silly boy. It  _was_  just a game, after all. 

"I'll..." He hesitates, despite his frustration, dangerous words dancing on the tip of his tongue. He pauses to remind herself she was just a girl, a  _normal_  girl. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he spits the words out: "Just give me my money."

There was a long pause. It had seemed the bar had gone silent. It hadn't. It seemed like everyone was watching on the edge of their seats. They weren't. It seemed like Sammy was so damn  _worried_  that Dean would do something stupid. He was. Finally, time starts moving again as Eva pulls away with a breathy chuckle.

"Okay," She answers simply, the laughter audible in her voice, "Okay." She pulls out the cash and holds it out to Dean who simply stares at it for a moment. He didn't expect it to be that easy. He then snatches it from her grasp and counts it to ensure every last cent had been returned to its rightful owner. Eva waits expectantly for some form of confirmation that he was satisfied - which she got when Dean glanced to Sam to gauge just how melodramatic he had appeared. 

"Conned one too many times?" She asks, her tone still light and playful. Still, Dean was trying desperately to stay angry so that he didn't look like as much of an idiot and she could tell he was trying  _very_ hard. He ignores her question as his thoughts flash back to Bela Talbot who had left a very bitter taste in his mouth. Some things were better left unsaid.

"What? Aren't we friends now? Or do I have to buy a round of drinks?" She grins, folding her arms over her chest.

Sam was thankful that the situation was easily resolved. But, despite the fact that he was fairly tempted by Eva’s offer, he couldn’t help but fear that sticking around would result in another argument. Eva seemed like a nice girl and she certainly wasn’t hard to look at, but those qualities were just as concerning as they were attractive. It never was an _unappealing_ girl that was the root of their troubles. As much as he wanted to believe she was wholly innocent, he found himself questioning everything nowadays.

"Actually," he interjects, stepping to his older brother's side, "I think we're just going to head out. We've had enough adventure for one night, right, Dean?  
  
Despite the fact that it sounded as if he were asking a question, Sam wasn’t leaving much up to his brother. The brothers would have been far better off if they had gone with his suggestion of turning in earlier for a busy day of tracking whatever pulled Dean from the pit, Sam had convinced himself. The reason behind driving out this way seemed to have been lost on Dean at some point throughout the night.

Dean, however, was torn between whether or not he should move past his frustrations and continue to work towards making a move on the girl. She appeared very aware of his intentions yet had failed to outright reject him – a sign that she was still interested to Dean. The potential of salvaging the night was very appealing and Dean had opened his mouth to suggest a reconciliation when Sam shot him down. While Dean tried to stammer out his proposal despite Sam's interactions, Rae could only manage a bemused smile amongst the disagreement.

Once the younger has his brother convinced that he isn't going to take no for answer, the taller Winchester turns his attention once again to the brunette woman. He wasn’t going to lie to himself and pretend that he wasn’t upset about the fact that they'd most likely never cross paths again. He does try, however, to convince himself that it was better for her sake, that she likely wouldn’t want a life full of monsters.  
  
"I'm sorry for my brother's behavior. But, uh, thanks again for your offer. Have a good rest of your night, though, um, ma'am," Sam offers with a small wave. He hadn’t intended to make the situation more awkward by addressing her in such a formal manner, but he figured it best to begin mentally erasing her from his thoughts. The sooner he forgot her name, the sooner he could stop thinking about her.

It was quickly apparent that the only person that had a say in the situation was Sam and he was most certainly was not budging on his decision. Rae had time only to interject the beginnings of coercion before Sam was practically dragging Dean out the door following his brief apology. The two boys were an interesting pair and markedly different from the usual crowd of bar-goers. Sure, Dean seemed to care more about a happy ending than anything but he was still light years ahead of the usual groping and slurred half-compliments that she usually dealt with.

She was nearly startled by Sam's use of an honorific. In an effort to perpetuate their night of "adventure" as he so aptly put it, she was determined to at least  _stay_ on a first name basis. She pushes through the crowd only slightly, finding it difficult to navigate the rows of people. 

"Eva!" She calls after the two gentlemen halfheartedly, "My name's Eva! Thanks for... remembering..." Her voice drops off, reduced to a mumble at the realization that the pair had little desire to listen, let alone respond. Sighing, she returns to the bar for one last drink before she heads out to hit the road.

"Ma'am?" Dean questions disapprovingly, dropping into the driver seat of the impala and shutting the door with just enough force as to make his displeasure clear. "Why do you have to be such a cockblock? Man, Sammy. I didn't know you were so jealous. You should’a said something instead of making me look like an idiot."

Instead of waiting for Sam's response, Dean flicks on some music to drown out what he had already determined to be an excuse for Sam's  _blatant_  jealousy that the girl had shown a  _distinct_  preference for him over Sam. Sam would try to make a conversion out of it, but it was going to be a long drive and Sam would sooner run out of determination than Dean. 


	3. As Coincidence

Eva was soon on the road, riding alongside some semi driver that she had convinced to let her tag along. That was the benefit of being an attractive woman when hitchhiking. It wouldn't be long before he would veer too far off the intended path or provide enough irritation so as to convince her to abandon hope and move onto the next. _That_ was the detriment of being an attractive woman when hitchhiking. On occasion, things would go really sour and the driver would make the poor assumption that she would be an easy mark or that she “really should thank him for being so kind.” She was always quick to put an end to that.

This driver, luckily, appeared to be the friendly sort despite the mysterious stains on his white t-shirt underneath a frayed flannel vest and a smell that could only be described as beef jerky and desperation. The truck rattled and bounced along on the uneven highway as a transistor radio periodically broke the silence when it crackled and hissed out some words. The driver’s name was William and he had gone by Will since he was old enough to talk, he had told Eva, but he was recently trying to switch to Bill. An embroidered patch on his vest read ‘Will’ so she figured the decision was still fairly recent.

She would pray later that day that Bill would have safe travels.

The Winchesters had stayed in town for a handful of days after Eva’s departure. It was more difficult to find a job when they were casting such a narrow net, and it didn’t help that demon activity had virtually disappeared. Sam suggested that it might have something to do with whoever pulled Dean from the pit. (He opted for whoever as opposed to whatever, considering that the boys were fairly certain they had figured out the _what_. Dean preferred not to humanize them in any way whatsoever.) Dean, however, was not quite willing to admit he might have some connection to a demon.

Finally, their metaphorical prayers were answered when Bobby called to inform them of some miscellaneous demonic omens in Newcastle, Wyoming. They weren’t concrete and it wasn’t certain that there was actually a demon there, but it was still better than anything else they had. So, within the hour, the boys were packed and on the road again.

Eva’s own tip had her headed for Newcastle as well and she ended up with a four-day lead on the boys. There was no need to go in with guns blazing so Eva had decided on doing a little recon by going undercover before dealing with the supposed demon. Naturally, she found solace in a quaint little church called St. Patrick’s and decided to pose as a nun. Regardless of whether or not it actually was a demon, the church would be a pleasant haven to retreat to should the need arise. Eva had met with Penelope on her first day in town to discuss the situation and the two agreed that it was best to evaluate what they were up against before doing anything rash.

"Sister Evangeline," The voice of the monsignor rung out throughout the empty church, echoing off the walls. She had been in the front pew praying when she had been interrupted. She liked to keep the Big Guy updated despite lack of communication on his part. Sometimes she questioned if he was even listening anymore. Still, it was a habit she kept. 

"Yes, Monsignor?" She answered in a bright tone as she strode down the aisle to meet the monsignor and the boys. An amused smile graced her lips at the sight of the familiar faces in clerical clothing. She would have to throw her initial approach out the window now that she was going to have company. As the pair danced and tugged at the stiff, cheap costume versions of clerical clothing, it didn't take her long to put two and two together. She never was too strong a believer in coincidence. And, it should've been painfully obvious to her that they were hunters in the first place. At least, looking at them now, it was.

Perhaps she was  _trying_  to overlook it before for whatever reason. Or maybe she was just getting rusty. She wasn’t certain which was worse.

"I was speaking with these two gentlemen outside and apparently they're the newest additions to our family. Considering mass is starting soon, I'd like for you--" The Monsignor's gaze shifted to Eva and he paused at the sight of her amused expression, "What is it, Sister? Do you know these gentlemen?" 

"Just familiar faces, surely," Eva responded with a shake of her head and a faux-embarrassed chuckle. She wasn't going to oust them and blow her own cover. And what would happen to her mischievous stranger status if she didn’t make them sweat it out a little first?

"I'd be delighted to show them around, Monsignor," She remarked with a nod and a polite smile.

"Very well," The Monsignor smiled at Eva before turning to Sam and Dean, "We're lucky to have her. Such a wonderful personality and such devotion, a downright angel. Our attendance has increased tenfold since she arrived. Particularly the gentlemen have been flooding in like never before. Anyway, I'll leave you three to get acquainted." Eva glanced shyly to the ground at the Monsignor’s glowing remarks before he clasped the boys on the shoulders and strode off. She cleared her throat, looking to the Winchesters once again. It really was quite the idea to imagine them as priests, considering what she knew of their behavior.

"It's a pleasure to  _meet_  you, Father...?" Eva questioned for a name, jutting her hand out. Dean clasped her hand heartily, taking her lead and running with it. He definitely recognized her as the night was burned into his memory, but he wasn't going to mention it if she didn't.

"Banner. Bruce Banner," Dean grinned, clearly proud of his choice of alias as he always was. 

Sam was, once again, caught up in his own thoughts. The Monsignor’s words went in one ear and out the other as Sam stared down a face he was certain was familiar. His mind kept running back to just a few nights ago, but he had convinced himself that couldn’t be the case. If it was, he was most concerned about the fact that the girl was a _nun_ of all things. He almost preferred that she might have been some supernatural creature. At least, in that case, he would’ve had a chance with her. On the bright side, it was some solace to know that Dean never had a chance with her.

Sam’s brought back into reality as the back of Dean’s hand hit him in the center of his chest as ‘Sister Evangeline’ waited expectantly for… something.

“Name,” Dean coughed after glancing over at Sam’s deer-in-headlights expression.

"Father Scott Lang," He finally broke the abnormally long silence. Not much else had come to mind for an alias so he hoped that this nun hadn't ever read Ant-Man. "Nice to meet you."

Eva responded with a smile and a nod as if it hadn’t taken Sam a strangely long amount of time to spit that out.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” She remarked, shifting her attention to the parishioners that were beginning to trickle into the church, “Let’s take our conversation elsewhere?”  
  
Eva turned, motioning for the boys to follow her. It wasn’t until the Winchesters were able to linger behind long enough to fall out of earshot that Sam spoke up again, "Does she look...  _Familiar_  to you?"  
  
Despite the fact that this woman had an uncanny resemblance and a similar name to the woman that they encountered at the bar just a few nights beforehand, Sam had made a determined effort to convince himself that there was no relation. Still, he would feel a lot more confident in his assumption if Dean were to back it up.

It  _would_  be a bit of a stretch to assume that this was her. Being so far away from that curbside attraction, the odds were not in favor of it actually being her. Though, this wouldn't be the first time that the Winchester brothers crossed paths with somebody and with reason. Despite the concerning implications of a supposed coincidence, Sam had his fingers crossed that that was the case. Not that he would mention that to Dean.

“Familiar?" Dean questioned, eyeing her up once more to emphasize the point he was about to make. "No way. A girl like that would be a lot more than familiar to me if I had met her before. I've seen what nuns are like when you get them out of that dress." With a lopsided grin, Dean nudged Sam in the side with his elbow. It still hadn’t occurred to Dean that this girl had next to no interest in him whatsoever, despite his pitiful attempt at wooing her before.  
  
At his brother's dismissal, Sam shrugged. Whether or not it was her and whether or not he _wanted_ it to be her, they were here to stake out a demon. Unlike his brother, Sam wasn't going to let a girl distract him from his work, even if she was fairly distracting. The brothers quickened their pace to catch up to their tour guide as she turned a corner.  
  
"So, uh," Sam spoke up, filling the momentary void in conversation and sounding a little less professional than he had intended to, "How long have you been here, Sister? Is there anything you could tell us about this place? Anything new?"

Eva chuckled, stopping in her tracks to turn around and face the boys. She had been planning on letting the facade drag on for a while longer, but it was like the boys weren't even trying. Maybe they had caught onto her? Unlikely, but it still was a possibility.

They had reached a portion of the church that was only open to the clergy. Preparing for the approaching mass had taken the attention of the handful of priests and nuns that belonged to this particular church so she felt fairly comfortable speaking freely.

"Anything new like what?” She questioned teasingly, “Rumors of  _demons_  running around town? Are you always like this or is it just because I'm pretty?" 

"Dude," Dean, who was momentarily concerned with her comment about demons, was overtaken by half-stifled laughter as he patted his brother on the shoulder, "That's rough."

"I wouldn't be so smug. I think we all recall what happens to you around a pretty face," She paused only to chuckle at Dean clearing his throat before she continued, "Any _way_ , shall we chat in a more private location,  _Fathers_?"

It was hardly a suggestion as she pushed the boys along to a room where she could shut and lock the door. After doing so, she pulled off her headpiece freeing her familiar curls, which now looked peculiar against the significantly more modest clothing, "Amazing how  _stifling_  those things are."

She crossed her arms over her chest with an amused smile as she examined the confused and concerned looks on the boys' faces.

"Alright. Secret's out," She raised her hands as if she had been caught in the middle of committing a crime, "I'm not actually a nun. Which I'm sure you're both thrilled about... For...  _Varying_  reasons..." She narrowed her eyes ever so slightly as she directed the last comment at Dean. Her beaming smile returns only momentarily before being replaced with a slightly concerned expression at the sight of Sam.

" _Breathe_ , will you? ...Sam, wasn't it?" She acted if she needed a moment to recall the name. To be frank, she had no trouble remembering his name. And, that worried her. The last time she caught feelings for someone, it didn't end well for any party involved. But, she didn’t linger on the thought too long, turning her attention back to Dean, "And, you never bothered to properly introduce yourself."

She wasn't cruel with her words. In fact, she appeared rather amused by the whole situation. That was due to the fact she  _was_. The boys were standing in front of her, bowing their heads as if they were being reprimanded by the school principal. Despite the fact that coincidence didn't bode well with her, she was very, very amused. 

"I'm Br--" Dean started with uncertainty clear in his voice as he questioned whether or not to stick to the charade. Eva cut him off, not allowing him to repeat back his alias, "Alright then. Fine. We have Sam and the Incredible Hulk. It's sweet of you two to come running to the rescue but I _think_ I have this one covered. It sounds too passive to be a demon to me but my friend Penelope called it in and she knows her stuff. Regardless of  _what_  it is, I've ensured her that I will bring it to her unharmed. And, considering I have a funny feeling that you two are the 'shoot first, ask questions later' type, I'm going to have to ask you to go on your merry way." 

Needless to say, Sam Winchester was left shocked for several reasons, and the fact that someone actually caught onto his and his brother's ridiculous aliases was hardly even close to topping the list. Perhaps the most pressing matter, even over the fact that was potentially a very dangerous supernatural creature wandering the town, was the fact that ‘Sister Evangeline’ actually was the girl from several nights ago. Sam had yet to determine whether or not the fact that she was a hunter was a positive or negative development.  
  
He was hardly able to say anything. This time, not due to his wandering mind, but because the woman's pretentious narrative hardly allowed room for breath, let alone an argument. She certainly was confident and her comment to Sam to breathe produced a breathy chuckle of an ambiguous emotion from him.  
  
" 'Go on our merry way?' As in leave?" Sam asked for clarification, though he knew damn well what she meant. His mind was still reeling, trying to conjure a response to her previous trillion statements, let alone form a coherent argument. He gestured toward his brother with his next statement, "I think I speak for the both of us when I say that's just not going to happen."  
  
As a six-foot-four fully grown male, Sam wasn’t sure how he felt about potentially going up against this girl. However, he could tell that she was quite the spitfire and it might be necessary if he and Dean were going to stand firm on their position. Technically, they _could_ leave it to her (not that Dean would ever agree to that) but Sam was unsure how she was so certain of herself when the majority of cases required both Winchesters. That, and they still didn't know if she was on their side for sure. For all they knew, she might as well be the demon. As soon as this thought crossed his mind, Sam's jaw clenched a bit as a reflex and his fists balled at his sides for a fraction of a second. Sam’s optimism for the woman’s true identity was slowly being whittled away.  
  
"And, why would you bring a demon  _unharmed_  to  _anybody_?" That was absolutely a rhetorical question. Still, Sam didn’t want to leave too much silence open for Dean to get a word in quite yet, though Sam was certain that Dean would if he had one. "Forget it. How about this: We catch this thing together and we deal with problems as they come?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean interjected, clearly finding fault with Sam's compromise, "Unharmed? What do you think this is? Some Disney movie where everybody sings a song and the demon is magically on our side? No. We find the damn thing. We kill it. End of story. And no nun with a knife is going to get in the way of that. Understood?" He stepped closer to Eva, arms crossed over his chest and a sour expression on his face. Eva responded with a sigh, turning away from the boys momentarily. There clearly was going to be no convincing them otherwise. The only option was to tag along with them and make sure they didn't screw  _everything_  up.

"You have the _temper_ of the Hulk. You know that?" She faced the boys once more with a chuckle. They weren't going to take no for an answer. She hadn't expected it to go any other way. Still, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer either. There were easier ways of resolving the situation and ensuring that the boys didn’t interfere, but she liked the Winchesters for whatever reason so she wasn't keen on resorting to plan B. So she drops the cocky charade. They were going to find out sooner or later that she wasn't as superficial as she initially led them to believe and, in this case, sooner was better than later. Her compliance was unspoken, just as her defiance was. They would burn that bridge when they crossed it.

"We should talk to Penelope. She'd love to meet you, I'm sure. And she's better explaining these sorts of things. She's been tracking the thing for a while now, knows more about it than anyone else, I imagine. That is, if you trust me enough to not walk you into a trap. Put a gun to my head, I don't care. There's not time to waste on what-ifs," She insisted with a nod to Sam's clenched fists. The tension was evident between the three of them. Sam was more receptive to work with her but he still had his apprehensions. It was inevitable in a situation like this. 

Dean, on the other hand, absolutely did not like her. He still held his initial grudge for her having hustled him. Perhaps that inspired further suspicion. Nevertheless, he felt that there was something off about her. The whole ‘lone wolf’ thing never boded well. Even worse, Sam was absolutely enthralled by this chick. Dean wanted to pull him aside and knock some sense into him. What the hell kind of person wanted to keep a demon alive and unharmed? The answer was a blatantly suspicious one. 

Still, Dean  _was_  trying to keep himself composed. It was easier to interrogate a demon if it was alive and, if Eva was something to be concerned about, he wanted to catch her off guard. It was easier to keep tabs on her if she tagged along so he had no arguments when she apparently agreed to do so. It was like she could read minds when she joked about leading them into a trap just as the concern dawned on him, which only made him more uneasy. Sam might have been ignoring the red flags and warning signs, but Dean absolutely was not and they were beginning to pile up.

“So? Are we going to go or are we just going to keep staring at each other’s’ pretty faces?” She teased as she playfully smacked the boys on their arms, “Let’s roll out, bro-chachos.”

 


	4. Old Friends

July 1990

“Like hell, you’re leaving without me!” Azrael was practically screaming at John Winchester as he proceeded to pack the impala, slamming doors and trunk alike. The parking lot of some skeevy motel wasn’t exactly the place for an argument, but it seemed to be where all theirs happened. This time, like many times before, she was more frustrated than angry. It had been quite some time since John was _really_ able to get under her skin. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he _tried_ to start arguments.

Azrael had been an old friend of Mary’s since before she had become a Winchester. They had crossed paths when Azazel rolled into Kansas and Azrael had been following in his footsteps to ensure he wasn’t bringing about the end of the universe. She had a general policy to stay out of the public eye and to intervene in the lives of humans as little as possible. But, Azazel was a tricky bastard to keep tabs on and Azrael soon found herself fighting alongside the Campbells. After much convincing.

Azrael and Mary had grown fairly close during their time together, but their relationship quickly deteriorated when Azazel took it upon himself to kill Mary’s family. With Azrael’s lack of intervention, Mary grew distant and bitter towards the Archangel that had once been a closer friend than anyone else. Azrael swore up and down that she couldn’t have changed the outcome – even if she wanted to and she _wanted_ to – for reasons she was unwilling to share. Regardless, Mary wanted to distance herself from the supernatural and she did just that, Azrael included. Despite over a decade of no communication, the news of Mary’s death had brought Azrael into the Winchesters’ lives once again.

 “It’s not open for discussion,” John responded in a tone that hinted at the previous thousand times they had this argument. Azrael had been touring the country with the Winchesters ever since John had taken it upon himself to singlehandedly cleanse the planet of supernatural creatures. Despite his insistence that he worked alone, Azrael had been with John every step of the way to guarantee that he didn’t meet an untimely demise.

As such, the boys had grown fairly comfortable with her presence and she even played the role of a babysitter when she felt comfortable enough to let John go out on his own. Despite all this, John liked to insist that she was an unnecessary burden to bring along on hunts at every chance he got.

Azrael opened her mouth to retaliate but quickly shut it at the sight of shifting blinds in the motel room window. She had to remind herself to keep her temper in check because this, like the majority of conversations between her and John, wasn’t one for the boys to overhear. John – and Azrael, for that matter – were trying to keep them ignorant of the supernatural world for as long as possible.

Azrael instead drew close to John, dropping her voice to just above a whisper.

“You’re right. It’s not open for discussion. It was a bad enough idea to let you hunt at all. Now, there’s no chance on God’s green Earth that I’m going to let you hunt this thing _alone_. And, you better know damn well that I’m not doing it for the sake of _your_ sorry ass,” She hissed at him as her gaze flitted to the motel room window once more.

“Those boys deserve better than this,” She sighed, her gaze dropping to the gravel beneath her feet. Regardless of how everything worked out for them, she knew those boys were going to have a long road ahead. And, she wanted to let them just _be_ kids for as long as she had control over.

“Don’t tell me what my boys do and don’t deserve,” John remarked gruffly as he dropped into the driver’s seat of the impala. His words had had a lot more venom the first dozen times around. At this point, he was going through the motions more than anything. The argument always started the same and always ended the same. It never mattered what happened in the middle. So he had learned to save his breath. And that Azrael was just _fine_ with returning the punches he threw.

“You know, sometimes I think you forget just who you’re dealing with,” Azrael huffed, slipping into the passenger seat.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are. You couldn’t bring Mary back so you can’t be all that powerful,” John mumbled as he started up the impala. Despite how many times she had heard those same damn words, she could never get over how much they stung. John didn’t know that, though. She made it a point of not letting anything John said outwardly affect her too much. Because if John knew that it upset her, he would soon figure out that she _could’_ ve done something. But, it was a lot easier to take the punch than to explain that she was scared.

“You know something, John? You really _are_ an ass,” Azrael remarked with an absentminded sigh as she settled back into her seat. There wasn’t any strong emotion behind her words anymore. They had moved past that a long time ago.

“Right back at you,” John retorted just as emptily as he flicked on some music to fill the upcoming silence. The impala backed out of its parking spot and rolled out of the parking lot with tires squealing.


	5. And New Friends

“Like hell, you’re leaving without me,” Eva responded without hesitation at Dean’s suggestion that they split up for some ‘investigative research.’ He certainly wanted to keep an eye on this chick. There was no doubt about that. Still, he wanted to have a few moments of just him and Sam to remind his brother to not put not much stock in the girl. She had already conned them once and Dean didn’t want it happening again in a life or death situation.

“Penelope has _all_ the information we need,” She insisted, following close in the Winchesters’ footsteps toward the impala. She wasn’t intending on letting them out of her sight long enough to ruin everything.

“Dean _meant_ that—” Sam started, trying to resolve some of the tension between them, but Eva wasn’t exactly in a patient mood.

“I don’t _care_ what he meant. You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” She emphasized, her hand resting on the handle of the rear passenger side door.

“We don’t want to get rid of you,” Sam sighed, staring down at the door handle.

“I do,” Dean remarked smugly, pulling his own door open.

“Dean,” Sam warned, shooting his brother a look over the top of the impala.

“Well, I don’t care what you _want_ either. We’re a team now. I’m not happy about it either. But, we have to do what’s in the team’s best interest,” Eva insisted, dropping into the rear seat of the impala. The boys shared a silent conversation before following suit.

“First,” Dean stated sharply, adjusting his rearview mirror so that her slim frame sat squarely in it.

“We,” he paused to motion at the three of them, “are not a team.”

“We,” he motioned between him and Sam, “are a team. Second, what makes you so damn sure you know what’s best?”

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam interjected with a huff, turning to his brother. He was really trying to mediate the whole thing, but Dean didn’t exactly play nice with strangers.

“What? Don’t ‘Dean’ me, Sammy. You know just as well as I do that we don’t trust this chick as far as we could throw her. She knows it, too.” Dean gaze shifted back to the girl’s reflection in his rearview mirror, waiting for a response. She scoffed before placing a hand on either of the boys’ seats and leaning forward to make damn sure they heard what she was about to say.

“Don’t you think I would’ve tried to kill you already if I wanted to? You’re not the center of the universe, sweetheart. I’m just trying to do my job.” With that, she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, I’m going to do _my_ job,” Dean flipped around in his seat to look back at her properly, “If you get in the way of that—“

“Yeah, I get it. You’ll do whatever unimaginable thing comes to mind. This isn’t my first rodeo, cowboy,” She rolled her eyes. Dean grumbled some profanity under his breath as his faced forward once again and turned on some music to drown out any additional comments she or Sam might make.

The car ride was fairly silent – save for the music and the occasional direction from Eva – and, thankfully, short. It was only a handful of minutes before the impala pulled in the driveway of a cute yellow house. The grass was a perfect shade of green and neatly trimmed and the pathway up to the red-painted door was lined with flowers and various garden decorations.  

Stepping out of the car, the Winchesters glanced around suspiciously. They were almost certain Eva had directed them to the wrong place.

“A hunter lives here?” Sam questioned uncertainly.

“Dude, garden gnomes,” Dean remarked with a nod and thumb sticking out towards the aforementioned objects. Sam shuddered. He never liked those creepy little things.

“Olivia does the decorating,” Eva answered as if they should have meant something to either of the Winchesters. She doesn’t linger in the yard like the boys do, instead making a beeline for the front door and ringing the bell.

“Did you get the Mentos?” A female voice rung out from behind the door, followed by quickly approaching footsteps.

“I think I can get it above the house this time,” The redheaded woman beamed as the door swung open. Her smile faltered only briefly as she realized Eva and the boys were not who she thought they were with a soft, “Oh.”

“You are _so_ strange. I honestly worry about you sometimes,” Eva responded with furrowed eyebrows, placing her hands on the woman’s shoulders.

“It’s _science_. You know the whole Mentos and Coke thing? I was thinking ‘what if I did that with carbonated water’? So I _did_. So _then_ I was thinking ‘what if I turned it into some sort of holy water gun’? So, that’s the point I’m at,” She was practically vibrating underneath Eva’s hands as recounted her latest ‘experiment.’

“Squirt guns,” Eva answered with a sigh, pushing past the redhead and into the foyer of the house.

“Oh,” The other woman looked disappointed only briefly before her childlike excitement was brought back to life, “Oh, well. Olivia’s still bringing me Mentos.”

“Penelope,” Eva started, motioning for the boys to follow her into the house. Dean enters with little hesitation, but Sam lingers outside a little longer. After getting a good, solid look at the garden, he steps inside.

“ _Please_ stop calling me that. No one calls me that anymore and it makes me feel like my skin’s sagging so much that I have to hold it up with clothespins,” With every word, she spoke faster and faster until it all blurred together into one long string of syllables. Her excitement seemed to peak at the end of every sentence, reset by the start of a new one. “It’s Poppy now.”

“Fine, _Poppy_. These are my new… coworkers,” Eva finished exasperatedly. She loved Penelope, Poppy, _whatever_. She really did. But, the girl absolutely drained her.

“Poppy Walters, hunter extraordinaire and self-proclaimed mad scientist,” Poppy beamed, jutting her hand out to the boys.

“Dean,” The older brother answered with a toothy grin as he shook the girl’s hand. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad move after all. She was a little crazy, maybe, but that meant she was likely into some crazy stuff.

“S-Sam,” The younger answered with a polite smile. She certainly wasn’t like any other hunter they had ever met. Sam shot his brother a glance to gauge his thoughts on the redhead. At the sight of him staring and practically drooling, Sam tapped his arm to remind him that they were on a job. Poppy stood still for a moment, studying the boys before nodding firmly as if they had passed some secret test.

“Maybe we _all_ could do some co-work,” Poppy half-whispers teasingly as she nudges Eva in the side with her elbow. Color immediately flushed Eva’s cheeks. It was one thing to flirt with someone to con them out of their cash. It was another entirely when Poppy tried to court her with someone.

“Penelope Anne Walters, you are in a relationship. With a _woman_ no less,” Eva shook her head. Poppy had a way of getting under Eva’s skin. They had known each other for a long time and old friends made a habit of that.

“I can still admire fine craftsmanship,” Poppy exclaims, suddenly not concerned with even pretending to be subtle.

“I’m sure you and Dean would have a ton of fun admiring each other’s craftsmanship,” Eva scoffed. She hadn’t intended to feed into Poppy’s sexual fantasies, but the comment had slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself.

“Oh, you have a thing for the tall one? Noted,” Poppy clicks her tongue at Sam with a wink and Eva’s eyes widened with concern.

“Will you – Where is Olivia when I need her? _Somebody_ has to keep you civil,” Eva threw her hands up into the air, clearly flustered by Poppy’s remark. She glanced Sam to gauge how much her response had affected her, but his expression had yet to change since he stepped in the doorway.

“Mentos,” Poppy sang out as Eva could only manage a sigh.

“Lovely. Just go get your research, will you?” Eva asked, pinching the bridge of her nose as Poppy disappeared further into the house. It was going to be a rough job.

Eva led the boys into the living room and sat them on a couch. The silence was understandably awkward as they waited for Poppy to return. Though they were all certain she could’ve been gone only a few minutes, the wait felt painfully long. So Sam decided to try and fill the void.

“So, uh, is… is Olivia a hunter, too?” He questioned, toying with a weird bird knickknack that sat on the end table beside him.

“No. Just Penelo—Poppy’s girlfriend,” Eva responded as she glanced around the room distractedly. Her response was short and didn’t exactly encourage conversation and her gaze was trying very hard to not fall on Sam.

“Does she know about… all of this?” He stopped messing with the bird, leaning forward slightly as he folded his hands in his lap.

“Yes. They’ve been together for quite some time. And, though it might seem otherwise, they’re very committed. Sorry, Dean,” Eva remarked in an absentminded tone. Her mind was on something else. She was wondering whether the walls were painted eggshell or porcelain. She had narrowed it down to the two, but couldn’t place it. Dean only offered half a chuckle at her words.

Since conversation clearly wasn’t going well, Sam decided he was better off waiting in silence. Another handful of minutes passed before Poppy came skidding into the room with a couple manila folders, a marked map of the city, and several miscellaneous papers. She dumped the contents of her arms onto the coffee table and Eva went to work organizing it. She only paused to lift her gaze to Poppy and ask, “Eggshell or porcelain?”

“Ivory,” Poppy responded, nodding much more than needed as her chest heaved up and down due to her energy being clearly spent collecting her things.

“Damn it,” Eva remarked under her breath, upset that ivory hadn’t even been in her final five, and dropped her gaze back to the papers on the coffee table.

“It’s a nice shade,” Eva added before returning to sifting through Poppy’s work.

The Winchesters were both dumbfounded. They had run into some weird things in their lifetimes, but nothing was _this_ shade of crazy. The boys were beginning to question whether or not the two of them were actually hunters or some bible-thumping looney bin escapees. Just as Dean opened his mouth to make an exit, Eva finished her work and Poppy sat down to begin her explanation. It was like a switch was flipped and the Winchesters had been returned to the real world.

“Alright, so I’ve been tracking any suspicious deaths in the town for the past few months when everything went quiet. And I’m talking the kind of suspicious that’s only suspicious to the trained eye because it was dead silent around here,” Poppy remarked, shifting forward to point to over a dozen red Xs across the town map.

“The ones circled in black are the ones that ended up actually being something. Or rather, they weren’t debunked when I went out to investigate, which leaves us at six. Two house fires with no source, one break-in with no entry points, and three supposed suicides – all which were extremely happy with their lives on the rise. But, not the supernatural kind of on the rise.” She pointed out each individual mark as they were mentioned.

“One thing,” Poppy holds up a single finger to emphasize her point, “in common. They all had a dinner party immediately before their death, were exactly an hour into one, actually. Hotshot over here didn’t think it was a demon.”

“I thought it was a poltergeist. Cursed object, maybe. It seemed too systematic for a demon. None of the vics had anyone in common when it came to the guest list,” Eva clarified, crossing her arms at what she felt was a slight personal attack from Poppy.

“But?” Sam questioned, sensing that there must be something else to the situation.

“ _But_ ,” Eva sighed, “I’ve dealt with this guy before and he has an M.O. – a single white lily on the vic’s chest.”

“Why?” Sam was again the one to question.

“He’s an ass,” Eva offered with a shrug and a shake of her head.

“So what do we do?” Dean spoke up this time. He more concerned about the course of action over the motivations of a demon.

“We invite him to dinner,” Poppy chimed in, scooping up her research in one smooth motion and leaving the boys and Eva in silence once again.

A few hours of preparation and a change of clothes later, Poppy and Olivia had left the house, which was now decked out in devil’s traps in every free inch of space, to Eva and the Winchesters. Just inside the front door of the house, Eva sat on a large tub of rock salt, drumming her fingers on its side, and the boys each held a jug of holy water.

“This is a stupid idea,” Dean muttered, setting the holy water at his feet.

“It’s not a stupid idea. He’ll show,” Eva insisted.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I think Dean might be right on this one,” Sam agreed reluctantly, shooting a glance between his brother and Eva. “Demons are exactly the type to respond to a dinner invitation.”

“Maybe it’s because you have a bad reputation,” She replied, placing her hands on her thighs.

“And you have a good one? With _demons_?” Dean questioned. That didn’t exactly make him feel better about the situation.

“What? What is it about me that makes you have so little faith?” Eva demanded as she rose to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest as she stalked closer to Dean, “This can’t _seriously_ be about your money. Because if that’s the case, that’s childish. Childish and petty.”

Dean opened his mouth to retort but the ringing of the doorbell interrupted him. Eva shoulder’s relaxed as she let out a breath and brushed herself off as if she might have gotten her pants dirty by just sitting there.

“That’s him,” She remarked calmly with a nod to the holy water. Dean complied by picking up his gallon again and unscrewing the cap.

Eva inhaled sharply before swinging the door open in a wide arc. She motioned inward silently with a nod and stepped aside to allow the visitor to enter. As soon as she closed the door behind him, Sam and Dean drenched him in holy water, sending him stumbling back into a devil’s trap.

“That’s a low blow,” The man hissed as his skin sizzled from contact with the holy water. “I thought we ended on a good note.”

“Long time, no see, buddy. Nice suit. Sorry, this dinner party’s going to be a little more intimate than your usual soirees. Have a seat, won’t you?” Eva offered in mock kindness as she slid a dining chair into the devil’s trap.

“Never change, darling,” The demon chuckled as he pulled the chair close and straddled it, “You showing off for your new buddies? You know, word on the street is that you’re dead.”

“As a doornail,” She agreed sarcastically, extending her arms to show how obviously not dead she was. “What killed me this time?”

“Dunno, wasn’t in the memo,” The demon offered a toothy grin, tilting the chair forward on two of its legs.

“Can we cut the high school reunion?” Dean interjected which only got him an eye roll from Eva.

“S’that why you started getting sloppy?” Eva questioned, clearly impressed with neither the demon nor the older Winchester.

“No,” The demon paused to chuckle, his black eyes seeming to glow at the bit of information he was about to share, “Heard the Winchesters were in town.”

“The Win…?” Eva parroted in a soft voice before it dropped off entirely and she glanced back to the boys.

“Oh, yeah. They got your number now, pretty girl,” The demon sang out, rocking back and forth in the chair. “What, not so tough now?”

Eva had gone silent at the realization of just who she was running with. Years of delicate planning to stay off the radar of a very specific few had gone to waste now that she had put a target on her back. She was going to be dragged back into something she very much wanted to avoid. Luckily, in her silence, Dean decided to take over the interrogation. He pushed past her and she stumbled to the side, lips drawn in a tight line.

“Enough fucking around. Which one of your buddies pulled me from the pit?” Dean demanded, drifting dangerously close to being within reach of the demon.

“ _My_ buddies? Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re barking up the wrong tree, boy. You should ask your girlfriend here about that,” He nodded to Eva at which the Winchesters’ gazes follow. “She knows a whole hell of a lot more than she’s leading you to believe. Pun not intended.”

“What are you planning?” Eva piped up again and regain her position from Dean as her determination seemed to have returned. She didn’t want the demon to get any further than he already had.

“Ah, ah, ah. Wait your turn.” He teased, clearly enjoying the deterioration of what little team dynamic Eva and the boys previously had.

“ _No_ , not this,” She answered impatiently, motioning back towards the Winchesters. She paced around the edge of the devil’s trap, studying the demon inside of it, “What are you _all_ planning? You’ve gone dead silent, radio static. What are you all up to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He laughed, his head turning to follow her as she made circles around him.

“I could _make_ you tell me,” Eva spat at him, stopping dead in her tracks. Her muscles were tense again as she stood just on the edge of the circle with clenched fists, rocking back and forth ever so slightly and threatening to pounce.

“In front of your new friends? Wouldn’t that spoil the surprise?” He asked, tilting his head in false innocence. Eva seemed to consider it a moment, her eyes running up and down the demon before she determined that he had exhausted his purpose. In one fluid motion, Eva pulled a blade and buried it in the demon’s jar. His eyes and mouth glowed brightly briefly before Eva retracted the blade and the body the demon was possessing fell limp.

“You were always more trouble than you were worth, Danny boy,” Eva mumbled, shaking her head. Her gaze flitted to the Winchesters only briefly before she went to work packing her things. The boys were silent for a long moment as she did so. The new information certainly changed Sam’s outlook of Eva and only reinforced Dean’s. Neither had gotten a good chance to look at Eva’s blade, but, with the way she and the demon interacted, they were fairly certain that they had encountered something similar before.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dean was finally able to bring himself into motion again and grab Eva’s wrist to prevent her from continuing.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled as she yanked her wrist free to continue packing.

“Don’t play dumb,” Dean demanded, wedging himself between Eva and her things so that she was forced to give him an answer, “The hell was that? Where did you get that blade?”

“A friend,” Eva huffed, crossing and uncrossing and crossing her arms again.

“A _demon_ friend? Because the only friends demons have are _demons_!” Dean shouted, her clenched fists threatening to swing into action.

“I don’t know. I’ve heard you two have gotten pretty frisky with a demon,” Eva countered sharply and Dean’s gaze flitted to Sam before returning to her. “ _And_ I stepped in and out of that devil’s trap, no problem. Doesn’t that put a hole in your theory?”

Dean opened his mouth to snap back at her, but he couldn’t find the words. No demon that they had run into before had been able to escape a devil’s trap, let alone just walk out of one. So he instead found a new issue with her. He had been making a mental list for this moment.

“What do you know about me being pulled from the pit?” He barked at her and her eyes widened ever so slightly.

“What? Nothing!” Her response was immediate, barely giving Dean time to finish his thought.

“He said—” Dean started to counter her response, but she was again quick to interrupt.

“Demons lie, Dean. Is that new to you? They try to get under your skin. And, you’re _letting_ them!”

“What about what he said about someone being after you? Who would that be?” Sam spoke up reluctantly. He so desperately wanted her to just be a normal girl. He had to admit that he felt _something_ for her and now it was just as likely that she was some demon on steroids than anything else.

Eva looked between the boys with an exasperated sigh before throwing her hands up in the air, “Oh, I don’t know. All of heaven and hell maybe? You boys aren’t exactly a lucky charm. You’re a death omen.”

There was a period of silence where the boys tried to swallow what she had just said. They couldn’t exactly deny the truth in it. Still, it was hard to hear. No one else ever wanted to talk about it. And, the boys could pretend it wasn’t exactly true if it was just a thought. Now that it had been spoken, it felt a lot more real.

“Either way, we have to find out what raised my ass,” Dean remarked, looking to Eva, “Coming?”

“What’s the plan?” She asked reluctantly, although she had no motivation to hear it. She wanted to put as much distance between her and the boys as she could manage, but she had an aching feeling that wasn’t going to be an option.

At her question, the boys shared a glance. They had had an alternative plan that had gotten bulldozed by Eva’s when they rolled into town.

“We know a chick,” Dean answered shortly, not caring to elaborate for who he now considered public enemy number one.

“A séance,” Sam clarified and Eva swallowed thickly. Participating in a séance was like phoning in with her location.

“You know, I think I might sit this one out,” Eva half-chuckled in a poor attempt to ease some of the tension as she spun on her heels to make a beeline for the exit.

“I wasn’t really giving you a choice, sweetheart,” Dean remarked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Every muscle in her body tensed at the contact. She _hated_ when she was right.

 


End file.
